


Psych 101

by AuroraKant



Series: Whumptober2020 [10]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Dick Grayson-centric, Extremely Dubious Consent, Force-Feeding, Forced Masturbation, Forced Orgasm, Isolation, Lima Syndrome, Mind Break, Other, Restraints, Sensory Deprivation, Sex Toys, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26951842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraKant/pseuds/AuroraKant
Summary: There are three easy steps to break a vigilante.They might be counterintuitive; they might be strange – but they work.Step One is simple: Let them defy you.Dick threw himself against the restrains tying him to the chair. He was fighting, or, no, he was attempting to fight. But there was no one currently in the room with him, no one telling him what to do, no one he could struggle against.Day 11:Defiance | Struggling | Crying
Relationships: Dick Grayson/OC Villain
Series: Whumptober2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948651
Comments: 20
Kudos: 99
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Psych 101

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!   
> This is... almost the Darkest Fic I have written for Whumptober... so... READ THE WARNINGS AND THE TAGS! THE BACK BUTTON EXISTS!  
> I love all of you!!!
> 
> Comments, Kudos, Bookmarks and Feedback give me life! Before you scream at me, I am genderqueer and use she/her/them/they! <3<3<3

_There are three easy steps to break a vigilante._

_They might be counterintuitive; they might be strange – but they work._

_Step One is simple: Let them defy you_.

* * *

Dick struggled against the restraints keeping him tied to the chair. Maybe he would be fighting less if it was a normal chair, something you would find at a yard sale or at the Manor, but, no, this was no normal kitchen chair. This was a medical instrument, built out of steal, covered in a soft fabric that protected Dick’s rather sparsely clothed body from the cold metal.

This was a shit situation.

No matter how much he threw his body against the bindings, they didn’t budge. And since they were padded, he didn’t even succeed in making himself bleed. He might bruise around his wrists, but it was unlikely that Dick could be able to hurt himself enough to dislocate his thump and slip free.

“Let me go!”

“No.”

The person opposite him hadn’t cared when Dick threw himself against the shackles earlier, and they didn’t react just now either. Their face was unchanged, free of any obviously gendered tell. In total, they were completely non-descript. Normal blue jeans, a black hoodie, and a face completely void of any expression or distinct feature.

It was a bit creepy, and the longer the unnerving stare continued, the more Dick felt as if it was reaching inside his soul, tearing him apart.

“What do you want?”

“I want to make you happy.”

“Then let me walk free! Let me out of here!”

Dick was trying his best to stay calm, to not let the fear get away with him--- but this had been going on for days now. Each morning – or at least Dick assumed it was morning – like a clockwork the creepy person entered the white room Dick was being kept in.

With the person, two just as faceless goons would enter, freeing Dick from the place on the wall he was shackled to during the night – a mattress and toilet the two things his chains allowed him to reach – bringing him towards the chair in the center of the room.

Once his legs and arms and upper body were satisfactorily restrained, they left.

But the creepy person never did.

They just stood there, no matter how many comments Dick made, no matter how often he quipped or bantered, or just decided to be contrary when he was brought food and water.

He defied them with everything he had: His words. His actions. The small things he could control.

And for some reason they let him.

If Dick said no to food, the food was taken away. If he denied water, the water got poured down the drain. If he screamed that he wanted to be left alone… the creepy person went and left him.

The only thing they never did was let him walk free.

It was weird, it was unsettling. Dick wasn’t sure if he liked it, or if it was partly at fault for the nausea bubbling in his stomach.

It was always frightening when a villain didn’t behave like they should. Dick was used and trained to endure torture, he could survive starvation and waterboarding and isolation… so, it was unnerving to be neither completely alone, nor deprived from the necessities needed to live.

“I can’t do that. You can only be happy here.”

“Fuck that! Get over your creepy self and let me out of here!”

Okay, maybe Dick was closer to breaking than he had anticipated, the confines of this room getting to him. He wanted to move – his legs and arms were tingling with disuse. He hadn’t had the space to stretch his body or his figurative wings in days.

“I can’t do that. But I can leave, if you want me to?”

“Yes! Yes! Run away! Go! Fuck off!”

Dick was just so tired of this.

The person left, their face turning towards Dick one last time before leaving the room completely:

“I will be back for dinner and to bring you to bed.”

“FUCK OFF!”

The door closed behind them and Dick was once again alone. It was… somehow worse. There wasn’t much his eyes could focus on, not much for his mind to do. The walls were a stark white, the mattress in the corner he slept on, clean and empty. The toilet was made out of steel, glinting in the bright illumination from above.

He had no enemy when he was alone, no one to fight against, especially since the chair didn’t let him.

It was worrisome enough that Dick was dressed in thin linen clothes, and not his usual Nightwing gear, only the mask still firmly pressed against his face. When Dick asked – and his attempts at conversation had been so much better during those first few days – the answer had been painfully nondescript.

Apparently, his identity was not important as long as they could teach him what happiness was.

 _Not creepy at all_.

No… not at all.

The bad feeling growing in the pit of Dick’s stomach had gotten stronger over the last few days, growing and growing with each failed attempt to rile up his captor. The person just didn’t react – and Dick was starting to think that maybe there was someone else behind the mask. Or something.

It just… they couldn’t be human. They were too sleek, too perfect, too… calm for that.

But he had no way to confirm it.

How was he supposed to make sure that it wasn’t someone else pulling his strings, when Dick couldn’t even scratch that itch behind his ear or clean the dirt from his own face.

Yeah, that was another layer of added horror.

As if his thought had been displayed somewhere, the door opened again, simultaneously to the grumble of Dick’s stomach. He was growing hungry… and it frightened him that it happened perfectly in time with the pre-scheduled meal plan. His body was growing used to the routine of this place, and Dick hated every single reminder of that fact.

He had been in here for too long.

“I have brought dinner. Will you allow me to feed you?” His creepy captor said, and for a moment Dick toyed with the idea of saying no. But he had already denied breakfast and lunch, and he would cave sooner or later.

He would rather do it while he still had some sense of dignity left.

“Yes.”

Being fed without the ability to move his arms even an inch was a humiliating experience. It wasn’t the first time Dick allowed it, and he feared it wouldn’t be the last time either, but no matter how often it happened, no matter how much his body started to respond to the schedule he was forced into… it never lost its horror.

Dick was almost glad.

If he could still be horrified, that meant they hadn’t broken him just yet.

A spoon full of soup was put in front of his face, and Dick complied, opening his mouth, and swallowing when the perfectly temperate liquid touched his tongue. It tasted divine.

Dick hated it.

And yet he dutifully swallowed every following spoon full that was presented to him, his body growing warm as the food filled him up.

The food always tasted good, and Dick knew it was on purpose, because it made resisting it so much harder. But Dick would do his best to stay strong – at some point someone would be forced to come for him, at some point someone would be forced to free him of this creepy person and their weird contraption chair.

A bit of the soup drippled down his chin as the creepy person spooned him the last bit left in the pot, and Dick could feel himself flush hot as they leaned forward and cleaned the stain away with a napkin. Their touch was gentle and warm, their voice as empty as always:

“I am happy to see that you liked it.”

“As if you didn’t force me to.”

“Sometimes we have to force people so they can accept their happiness.”

Well, that didn’t sound good at all.

Dick pulled against his restraints, and they didn’t budge – just as they never had before – but he had to try anyways. The creepy person only stood by and watched.

Just as always, they never even tried to stop him.

Dick was beginning to be afraid.

Especially when they left, something almost pitiful in their gaze as they said:

“You are ready for phase two. I am sorry if this is going to be uncomfortable for you – but always remember, the end goal is your happiness.”

_Fuck it._

Dick was terrified.

* * *

_If you let them defy you, they think themselves in control. They think they can keep you from twisting them and breaking them, not noticing that you entered their mind long ago._

_If you want to break a vigilante, you have to make them believe that they are standing strong – and that all their opposition is fruitless in the end. That it is hopeless._

_So, Step Two is rather easy: You let them struggle. And you give them something to struggle against._

* * *

Dick’s stomach was growling with hunger, but he was afraid of what would happen should the creepy person return.

Ever since they had promised him happiness – while also claiming it to be uncomfortable – Dick’s life had been hell. Oh, fuck it, Dick’s life had never been easy, but now with the weird form of torture they were putting him through, it was really going downhill. Fast.

He threw himself against the restrains tying him to the chair. He was fighting, or, no, he was attempting to fight.

But there was no one currently in the room with him, no one telling him what to do, no one he could struggle against.

He was alone with his hunger, alone with the fear radiating through his body.

The new routine was not all that different from the old one, but it was so much worse. Maybe because Dick had rather quickly realized what they wanted from him, and yet he had been unable to stop himself from playing directly into their hands.

Each morning the creepy person would enter his room with their two goons, and they would get Dick from his spot against the wall, and they would restrain him on the chair, and then he would be fed breakfast.

Dick had given up his struggle against being fed. He could… he would… he had been unable to stop them from having this one victory. He needed the food if he wanted to keep up his strength and it tasted so good.

His body was responding to it as well – half an hour before he would be given food, be it breakfast, lunch or dinner, he would grow hungry, and when they came, he would already be salivating in preparation for the dish he would be given.

It always tasted divine, sparks of joy dancing through his body whenever he tasted whatever they brought him, endorphins being released in his brain. And… and all he had to do was say Yes when he was politely asked if he wanted it, and swallow when the perfectly bite sizes portions got presented to him.

It was so easy.

 _They were so close to breaking him_.

But, no, Dick would let them have that one victory. He just had to keep them from getting the second one as well.

It was hard – and Dick was no longer sure if he was strong enough.

If previously Dick had been allowed to haul insults at the creepy person, he was now faced with the two goons.

After feeding him the creepy person left, the two faceless underlings following them out of the room. He would be alone… horribly so, with nothing to stimulate his senses. Dick had tried everything – he had counted and sung and screamed… but nothing was ever capable of holding his concentration for long.

Maybe that was due to the electricity running through the chair, low enough not to be harmful, but strong enough to make it impossible to relax. He was quite literally run through by a current – that was until the door opened again.

Once, for lunch, and the current would stop, and the relief would make his Yes come so much ~~easier~~ faster when the creepy person asked if Dick wanted to eat.

And then… after they left, the electricity would start up once more. That was until the door opened… only this time it wasn’t time for dinner yet, only this time it wasn’t the creepy person who stepped through, but their underlings. Just as faceless, just as creepy – maybe all of them really were robots.

It was then that the real nefarious part of the routine came into play.

The restrains around his limbs would open. He would be able to escape – only that he never stood any real chance at all. It was a way to break his mind, giving him hope only to take it away again. It was fruitless, and cruel, and exhausting.

Dick engaged with it every single time.

His attacks were vicious once he was released. These people had captured him as Nightwing, they knew he could fight, and the feeling of his foot connecting with the groin of one of them, or his fists hitting one of their faces was the best thing ever.

It was what came after that threatened to crush him.

Because what inevitably followed was a sequence of events that ended with him being overpowered every single time. Of course, they did. They were two strong goons, well fed and well trained, possible metas or cyborgs or robots, while Dick was a sitting duck, his muscles slowly falling victim to atrophy.

They gave him a chance to defend himself, against impossible odds, and no matter how hard Dick tried – it was never enough.

So, every time they fought, they caught him and restrained him again and then… when the fight was slowly bleeding out of him, when the last restrain was rightfully back in place, the creepy person would return, with dinner and a shot of… a shot of pleasure. And a good night’s rest.

And this was truly the worst part.

Which was why the feeling of hunger building up in his stomach was filling him with dread. And anticipation. Because that meant dinner was coming soon, and before he was allowed to eat, he would have to fight.

Giving up the struggle was impossible.

By fighting them he gave them exactly what they wanted, but by giving up they had already won. It was a situation Dick couldn’t win, couldn’t escape – at least not out of his own violation.

It was bad enough that he could feel the torture take effect. It was bad enough that he dreamed about the good food and the way it made him feel, it was bad enough that his body was ready to be molded when the creepy person came back after the fight was over.

He could feel his mind fail, could feel his will bow to their tricks… the constant discomfort, the relief that only came when creepy person was in the room, the way this chair was slowly becoming a part of him.

He was beginning to fear the shadows of the faceless goons, but his body would relax every time it was the creepy person that stepped inside his prison – almost as if he was happy to see them.

Right now Dick was still aware that it was happening, he could still control his elevated heartbeat somewhat, but sooner rather than later his mind would succumb, pure joy filling him whenever he saw the creepy person, who was ready to take care of him.

The two goons had been waiting by the door, and without looking at each other or at a watch, they both stepped forward simultaneously, their movements perfectly synchronal.

It was time.

It was a bit freaky to watch – but watching was better than being forced to engage. They reached him, Dick’s eyes following their every move, cataloging every small flinch, every sign he could maybe use against them.

The first hit connected with Dick’s cheek, and he let his head follow the motion of the fist, to minimalize the damage. His skin only stung, no larger injury done – not that Dick actually thought that they wanted to permanently harm or main him.

No, they just wanted to break him.

(and they were rather successful regarding that)

He tried to block the next hit directed towards his face, and he was met with honest surprise when his left arm raised to meet the assault. Instant relief flooded his system, the idea of being able to move freely such a beautiful one.

It was time for the next part – his restrains had been opened.

He could feel how weak his arm had grown in the… days? Weeks?... since this had begun, and yet he did his very, very best.

It was surprisingly easy to push the worry back down, to focus on the present instead of the past, but Dick promised himself that he would think about it later. He was missing time – that wasn’t good – but usually other things were on his mind.

Like fighting for freedom.

Like the need to escape.

Like not being hit.

One goon stood to his right, the other one to his left, and Dick could see them get ready for another series of attacks. They would hit him, and drag him down, and push him onto the floor… Dick couldn’t let them do that against his will. He couldn’t let them do that without him fighting back.

He managed to hit the one to his right with his full force, but the goon didn’t even react. The skin on their face didn’t move, as Dick punched them – _they couldn’t be human_. They just couldn’t. It was as if nothing Dick did was ever enough, and he hated the way he was growing sick of fighting.

At the end he would only be disappointed, at the end there was only his failure.

But… no… He was Nightwing. He was Dick Grayson.

He couldn’t just give up.

He upped his struggles, and for a moment it felt as if he was able to turn the tides. His fist connected with the neck of the goon on his left, and he jumped forward, his leg sneaking behind the leg of his attacker, making them stumble. They crashed onto the floor with a loud bang, and… and they stayed down.

They had never done that before.

For a precious second Dick stopped, his amazement at his own abilities so overwhelming. He had struck one of the goons down! He had successfully managed to defend himself!

Elation danced through his vision, joy cursing through his bloodstream. He had achieved something great! He had done it! He had fought back!

Only seconds later hands closed around his left arm from behind.

Dick had forgotten about the second goon.

Rookie mistake, a voice whispered in his head, and Dick knew it was Bruce telling him that, even if the memory of his mentor’s voice was becoming distant. He wasn’t really sure anymore what Bruce sounded like exactly, or if his eyes had truly been blue, but he knew… he knew Bruce would be disappointed in him should he see what a beginner’s mistake was the beginning of yet another end.

Dick was losing it, and he had no idea how to stop that from becoming his reality.

He tried to rip his arm free from the steely grip forcing his limb down towards the restrains, but nothing he tried had any effect. In a herculean effort Dick twisted around, bruising his arm in this attempt to break free, but the goon held strong.

On the floor the first goon was shaking of the haze they had fallen into after Dick had hit them. His time was running out, his chance of freedom disappearing right in front of Dick’s eyes.

He upped his struggles, kicking and screaming, but the switch had been flipped.

It was useless.

He had already lost – he had lost the moment he chose to fight, and he lost the second he made a mistake any hero would be ashamed off.

Was he even still a hero? Or was he only a disgrace?

The goons wrestled him onto the floor, smarting bruises other escape attempts had gotten him, and… and Dick allowed himself to relax. His arms stopped pushing and pulling, his legs fell silent… his muscles eased, the tension coiled up inside of them slowly disappearing. It hurt so much less if he didn’t fight… It hurt so much less when he didn’t struggle once they began restraining him again.

The door opened once more, and through it stepped the creepy person, a tray full of food ready.

They were smiling.

Dick hated the expectation pooling in his stomach.

He hated how happy he was to see them. How good his body felt just knowing that they were back.

Nobody hurt him when they were in the room. The chair was silent, the goons were stoic and calm – he only knew peace when they were here, and his mind was craving it, demanding more of that blissful quiet.

“I see you have returned to your place. Do you want a reward for being a good hero? I want to make you happy after all.”

Dick was careful not to move a muscle in his face, his entire posture staying tense and unyielding. Yes, he wanted the reward, his body aching for what they were about to give him.

The food represented one part of it, his stomach cramping in pain and need. The other part was so much more evil… so much more effective in breaking him.

He hated himself, when a shiver ran down his spine as the creepy person stepped closer, a tiny tool filled with pleasure ready in their hand.

It was rather simple what they were doing: Let him fight until he was tired of fighting, reward him with pleasure when he was in the place they wanted him to be, and take away his agency by making it seem like a choice when it was really not.

All the while his happiness was tied to the creepy person, and his pain to the goons they controlled.

He had to eat – so he let them feed him, surrendering his pride.

He had to fight and sit and wait – so he let them curse him with a toy that made him malleable.

The creepy person was kneeling down in front of him, a soulless smile gracing their lips. Their hand was cold when it slipped underneath the linen clothing Dick wore, and he couldn’t bite back the yelp that wanted to escape him.

“I will make you feel good. Because my goal is to make you happy… once we have gotten this into place, I will feed you and get you ready for bed. You have nothing to worry about.”

He knew all that – it was the same speech he had gotten every evening since the second stage of whatever this was had started. And yet he tensed for a moment, when the creepy person’s fingers moved past his penis, and underneath his balls, until they reached his asshole.

He… he hated how excitement curdled in his stomach, he hated how his dick was getting hard even though he hadn’t been touched yet. He hated how… how he was beginning to look forward to this part of the day.

A finger was pushed inside of him, slick with something Dick hadn’t seen them apply. His body immediately eased itself onto the unfamiliar sensation, and before he knew it a second and third finger had joined the first.

The first time this had happened, Dick had cried, and screamed, and flinched – now it almost felt like home.

What a disgusting thought that was.

Before he could get too comfortable with the sensation though, the fingers vanished again, only to be replaced by something else. A sex toy… only that Dick found it too sophisticated to simply call it a sex toy. It was… it was genius in a way that frightened him extremely.

A vibrator was placed inside his hole, all the while a couple of strings connected the toy inside of him with the additional parts the creepy person was just about to fasten on his balls and cock. Once that monstrosity was switched on pure pleasure would flood Dick’s system.

And the fucked-up thing was… it was slowly – painstakingly slowly – working.

They were wearing his resistance thin, and already Dick could feel his body humming in anticipation of the joy that was about to hit him. The genius was stored in the fact that they didn’t overstimulate him – it wasn’t the goal to make him beg for more, or to humiliate him. No, their goal was so much more nefarious: They wanted him to feel good.

And so, the vibrator was perfectly aimed at his prostate at all times, and the sensors on his balls and cock would work constantly to support the pleasure coming from inside – but it never overstepped a certain line.

His head was painfully clear as his hips started rolling against his chair, as his hands struggled to reach for his penis to just get it over with.

The creepy person moved back, their hand slipping from Dick’s pants, their posture happy and relaxed. Dick could feel himself blush, but it didn’t stick – his blood was rushing into his lower regions rather fast.

It was far too easy to enjoy the low and steady pleasure keeping his body afloat, way too easy to accept the food the creepy person offered it.

Some part of him was still horrified by the realization that they had almost completely broken him, but with his cock well-kept for and his stomach full it was so hard to care for all these other things. He didn’t even mind when some of the stew he was being presented with drippled down his face – no, the creepy person’s hands were so soft and tender when they washed it away, Dick couldn’t help himself. He leaned into their connection.

It was his lizard brain that was doing all the thinking for him right now. Pleasure and joy making him complacent… once the creepy person had jerked him off at the end of their dinner, sense would return to Dick as well.

He would be horrified and disgusted and scared… but until then it was a bit hard not to enjoy his existence. He was warm and save and horny.

“Are you happy yet?”

Their voice always asked that, moments before Dick reached his high. Dick looked at them through half-lidded eyes, the face swimming in and out of focus as his body shuddered with sensation and stimulation.

He stayed silent.

They hadn’t won just yet.

Right now it was the toys making him so compliant, but Dick was afraid of the answer to one question: How much longer would he be able to struggle before he would be broken enough to welcome the touch and the chair and the food without even a hint of doubt?

How much longer until his enjoyment was real, and he could no longer even think about escaping from here?

How much longer could Dick stay… himself?

* * *

_To break a vigilante, you have to play with pleasure and pain. That’s how they work after all – their daily business forces them through inhuman pains and pleasurable adventures._

_The first two steps, however, are rather simply to achieve: a bit of defiance, a bit of struggle – and an underlying current of happiness – but it is the third step you need to excel at, to truly achieve your goal._

_Step Three: You let them cry – and you are there to catch them._

* * *

They hadn’t been back in days now.

Dick watched the door, his mind and body numb. There was simply no more fight left inside of him. They had done it. They had broken him. They had fucking achieved their goal.

He just wanted someone to come back.

At first, he thought they had been happy when Dick stopped fighting. It hadn’t been worth it anymore. The pleasure was so much better, Dick keening the creepy person made him feel good, but apparently that hadn’t been it either.

No, they had looked at him, when Dick didn’t move from his spot on the chair even as the restrains fell away completely, and smiled.

The creepy person had entered the room the moment it had become obvious that Dick wouldn’t fight, and their hand had been such a sweet relief when they caressed his cheek.

But then they had spoken, and Dick had felt fear spilling down his spine:

“You are such a good, happy boy. But there is one last thing we have to do, before you can be truly happy.”

Which had ended with him… here.

On his mattress, in this room, far away from the chair he had come to enjoy, far away from the routine he had come to expect.

Unrest settled in his bones, and he felt nervous at the prospect of being left alone in here. He had done everything they had wanted him to do. He had let them feed him – and he wanted that hand back, holding a spoon so Dick could swallow. He had let them please him – and he wanted that undercurrent of pleasure back, pushing him better and further than anyone had ever done before.

But most importantly he wanted the creepy person back, because being alone was the most horrible thing in the world.

And now he was just that.

Tears were running down his cheeks, the idea of missing something so horrible and twisting a sick one. And yet Dick couldn’t deny that it was his reality. He wasn’t even really ashamed of it anymore.

It had been months since he had last seen someone besides the creepy person and their goons. It had been months since someone besides the creepy person had been nice to him.

It was only normal that Dick built a relationship with them – it was only normal that he wanted their touch, their presence, their food.

(he couldn’t even remember what Bruce looked like anymore – but that only scared him sometimes)

And now he was crying, a mess of broken parts, because no one had taken care of him for days.

He stunk, the creepy person not even returning to wash him, and he was hungry beyond belief. It felt desolating to be left alone like this, when your entire universe had shrunken down to one small room and the chair in its center.

The door opened, and Dick couldn’t help himself, the excitement cursing through his veins making him sit up.

It was the creepy person standing in the doorway, a tray in their hands, wash clothes slung over their arm.

Dick had never in his life been this happy to see someone.

“I am back. Did you miss me?”

The tears were chocking him, Dick not managing to push even a word past his lips. He nodded, though, with all the eagerness of a schoolchild ready to be rewarded something. 

“I am happy to hear that.”

With that the creepy person stepped closer, and Dick let them. Their movements were small and deliberate, when they reached forward to help Dick up. The sensation of touch was almost too much, heat pooling in his gut, relief washing away all of Dick’s sorrows.

He was beginning to sob even harder.

This was all he could have asked for. It never even crossed his mind to fight when the creepy person started to strip him, pulling the shirt over his head, and his pants onto the floor. He let them – the room was warm enough, not even a cold draft touching his naked body. There was nothing to be ashamed of after all, the creepy person probably knew his body better than Dick did at this point.

The creepy person began sponging him clean, and it was the best feeling Dick had ever experienced. The water was warm, and it washed away every speck of dirt collecting on his body. The soap made his skin slippery to the touch, and Dick had almost forgotten what his body felt like, as each muscle and limb was carefully massaged and cleaned.

It was… it was too much, the serotonin racing through his nerve endings an avalanche of sensation. The touch! The warmth! The wetness! The companionship!

Dick was soft wax in their hands, malleable and formable, and so much happier for it.

There were no new clothes waiting for him once the creepy person was done toweling him down, instead they lead him towards the chair, pushing him gently onto the preheated cushions.

It was comfortable. It was home.

The last tension drained from his body, tears still aimlessly running down his face. Too much emotion was coiled up inside of him, too much joy drowning out the sorrow.

The creepy person was drying his tears as well, their hand steady, their eyes soft.

It was then that Dick managed to speak, his voice small and weak:

“You aren’t human, are you?”

“No.”

“What are you?”

“I am an android, created with the simple goal to make you happy.”

Dick looked at them, their perfectly blank face, their open and steady expression, and he couldn’t manage to be mad or frightened. It was okay – they would take care of him:

“Do you have a name?”

“E.V.E.”

“Hello, Eve…”

His voice trailed off, as Eve offered him food, and Dick obediently swallowed when they started spooning soup into his mouth. It was heaven. He had missed this – the closeness that came from being fed, the delight that came from tasting something so divine.

Once they were finished, Eve’s hand dipped even lower, his crotch no longer hidden behind fabric. They began playing with him, making his dick hard and his breath come faster. It didn’t take long for him to cum, his body needy in a way Dick hadn’t known he could be.

Eve smiled at him, and at the cum spread over their hand, before they turned towards him, a promise on the tip of their tongue:

“I will make you happy. You will never have to leave that chair ever again, I feel feed you, clean you, please you. I will take care of your waste and I will engage with you mentally – would that make you happy?”

Eve was still so close, and Dick was just so lonely… lonely, but also a tiny bit happy, a tiny bit relieved to no longer be alone.

“Yes…”

His answer was a soft breath, escaping his lungs. And he couldn’t be mad about how easy it had been to give away his humanity, his agency, not with how Eve looked at him. Not with how soft but firm their hands were when they restrained him again – only this time Dick could see no way to open his bindings again.

Once he was secured and save – and it shouldn’t send happy tingles into his gut, but it did – Eve stepped back, before getting something else from underneath the chair. It looked like a mess of cables and tubes… and something that looked like the most intricate vibrator Dick had ever seen.

He was ready.

His hips barely buckled, when Eve connected him to the chair, to his home, and all he could feel was lust and anticipation as the vibrator was pushed inside of him, filling him up in a way that was perfect. He was cared for… he was…

A moan escaped him as Eve started the machine inside of him, while simultaneously continuing in their work strapping him in. There were tubes connecting to his penis – a penis that was getting harder by the second – and sensors on his chest.

But how was Dick supposed to care?

Pleasure was cursing through his veins, and his body was on fire – his mind was quiet.

“Are you happy?” Asked Eve from their position between his legs, and Dick needed a couple of seconds to be able to answer, his voice lost in the stimulation making his knees tingle and his soul sing.

He was being completely honest, when he finally whispered:

“Yes…”

And he was… his tears had been dried, and Dick knew he would only cry from happiness from now on.

He was cared for after all. Eve would feed him and clean him – and they would make sure that only joy was electrifying Dick from now on.

Eve would make sure that Dick would always be happy and satisfied.

“Well, then I am happy as well.”

Accompanying Eve’s word was a twist of their wrist, a dial changing setting, and suddenly Dick was swallowed by the pure lust crashing over him, radiating from his cock outward through his entire body.

He had never been so happy in his entire life before.

* * *

_And that’s how you break a vigilante._


End file.
